


Hope for the Boys

by CaityWinchester67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 02:40:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2050398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaityWinchester67/pseuds/CaityWinchester67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She woke up in a middle of an alley, broken and bruised, and into the Hunter life with two certain hunters. The Winchester Brothers. With no memory of who she is or her past, she is christened Misty or Mystery Girl, by Sam Winchester. Join her as she dreams about a 'Caitlin Farley', and she falls in love, makes new friends and finds out who she really is. Follow Misty's journey into her past and alongside the Winchesters in The New rewritten story: Hope for the Boys. </p><p>(This is the same book as A Winchester's Hope, just retitled. This is the actual author posting the book, it's just on a different platform. Gonna change the title on Wattpad as soon as I can.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Alley

**Author's Note:**

> This book is the same as my book on Wattpad (A Winchester's Hope), I'm just retitling it and putting it on here. Please, do not report this book, or tell me (CaitiWinchester67) on Wattpad that it was 'stolen', because it isn't. It's just retitled. Mkay?

I wake up in a strange alleyway, no memory of anything recent… I think. Hmm, let’s see… nope… uh… yes! Wait… nope. Nothing. 

“Sammy, throw me the damn gun!” A deep, semi-gravelly voice echoes through the pitch black alley. 

“Stop calling me Sammy!” Another voice joins. 

“Just throw the fucking gun!” 

Running, screaming, crying. A sudden sense of fear comes with these noises, and being my crybaby self, I try to leave the scene. Unfortunately, the moment I stand up is the moment I fall down. 

I cry out in pain as I crash into a metal trashcan, then a green metal dumpster, and finally the cold, hard ground. My hands start searching my barely covered body, only to be rewarded with the feeling of various gashes, cuts, scrapes and warm blood. A frigid breeze cools my entire body while also heightening the pain. 

“Who’s there?!” The first voice yells into the alley. I attempt a response but only a strangled cry leaves my lungs. “Who’s there?!” The voice questions again. 

Before I can even think of responding, two well built, fairly tall men walk into a pool of moonlight. Wholly believing that my eyes deceive me, I close my eyes, then open them again. Well, they’re still there. Good, no hallucinations! For now…. 

I note the guns locked firmly in their hands while I examine them. The shorter of the two men has what looks to be dark blonde hair, green or grey eyes, stubble coating his strong jaw and is maybe six feet tall. He’s not bad looking. 

The other man is slightly taller than his former but has brunette hair that reaches just below his ears, dark eyes, a possible mole just above his nose on the left side, a moderate jawline, and a somewhat sympathetic ‘aura’ around him. He too is handsome. 

“Come out into the moonlight.” The blonde haired man commands me. 

With my final attempt at moving myself any closer to them (which is fairly difficult considering I’m obviously injured and scared), my body lurches forward. A few inches nearer to the men I am but my aching body is spread across the pavement. I find no strength with which to help me up. 

“Who are you?” The blonde man asks me. 

“I…” My voice cracks and whines as I speak. “Don’t…” 

“You don’t know?” The tall man’s voice softly questions. 

“No…” 

“Of course she doesn’t know.” The blonde man drones. I hear both men lower their guns, but I feel one of them crouch down to me and place a hand onto my shoulder. “Don’t help her! She could be evil!” 

“You don’t know that, Dean. Let’s at the very least help her.” 

“No.” 

“Why’re you so quick to judge?” The man who’s helping me asks this Dean while gently lifting me up. I groan as another wave of pain crashes against my body. “She’s hurt.” 

“Don’t help her, Sam!” 

Sam ignores Dean and flips me over, revealing his soft hazel eyes. He then places one hand beneath my neck and the other beneath my back before lifting me up. 

“Are you okay, miss?” His softness and grace is clearly heard through his voice. 

“No…” 

“Would you mind if we took you to a hospital?” 

The foreignness of the word hospital is unusual for me. Then again, this entire encounter is unusual. 

Not knowing what else to do, I shake my head. Dean scoffs and scowls at me. Sam just turns his head towards Dean and says, “We’re taking her to a hospital, whether you want to or not.” 

“Does the word danger mean anything to you?!” Dean combats, waving his gun in the air. 

“Does the word kindness have any meaning to you?” Sam sneers back. 

I really want to fuckin’ slap both of them and/or tell them to just let me die, but I have no strength, nor do I have a voice. So, I guess I’m screwed right now. Great. 

“Yeah, it does. And I know that kindness has decided to bite me in the ass more than once. Why, in fact, I’m dying in a year because of my kindness.” 

“Did I ask you to save me? No! Just drop it for now! She really needs help.” 

“Ugh, fine. But if this one bites YOU in the ass, you won’t see ME hanging around. Let’s go.” 

As Sam carries me to an unknown destination, Dean grumbles and whines about the situation. The second he ‘accidentally’ bumps into Sam, I get jolted and pain rips through me again. This time, though, it’s enough that I fade into the darkness. 

^^^^^^^^^

After entering my own home, I throw my bag down onto the counter and scream out in rage. How could that bastard just fire me?! Oh wait, I forgot that he’s a sexist pig. The same sexist pig who refused to acknowledge that I had a face and a voice during the entire three months of me working there. 

At least I can now search for a job where my actual skills will be wanted. A place where what I do is important and valued. Possibly a nurse’s assistant position at Providence. Hmm, maybe. 

I walk the same old course from my apartment door to my couch, my nails slightly digging into my makeup coated face. Once at the couch, I collapse onto it, wanting to fall asleep and forget that my life sucks right now. 

Unfortunately, my brain decides to run every thought it can, (as it always does when I try to sleep), thus ultimately leading me to watching some Blue’s Clues on tape. Ah, bright orange tapes filled with multicolored characters and good times. The good times… how long it’s been since I last had any. 

While watching Blue and Steve go searching for Mr. Salt and Mrs. Pepper, my cellphone decides to start ringing. Lucky for me, my phone’s in my bag, which is on the counter about twelve feet from me. (Please note: I’m being highly sarcastic.) 

“Why do you hate me, world? Just… why?” I groan to the ceiling. 

“Pick up the damn phone, Caitlyn! And stop bitching!” My upstairs neighbor/boyfriend Gordon yells from his higher class, more expensive apartment. 

“Stop listening in on me, Gordy!” 

“Kinda hard when you constantly whine!” I know he’s just kidding. We constantly are pissing off surrounding neighbors by yelling through the floor and we have tons of fun doing so. 

(Side note: our neighbors are all either 60 year old divorcees or college newbies who keep going in and out of this damn building every other year. They all suck and hate that both of us are healthy, semi-happy, and have above average lives. Actually, there is a nice couple who lives right next to me. They don’t really care what we do since they too used to do what we do now. They’re in their 40’s, have two teens, and they get that people aren’t perfect.) 

As I pick up my phone, I hear cries of laughter in the background. Ah shit… the twins are up with Gordy. No sleep for me… for the next week. 

“My darling, you promised video gaming and babysitting.” He lustrously says into his phone. 

“When did I? Cause I have no memory of this said agreement.” I smirk. 

“Three and a half days ago. We were enjoying some whipped cream after your delicious mac and cheese. I asked you, you got annoyed, I asked more, and you eventually said yes.” 

“C’mon! I thought you were kidding!” 

“Lies!” 

“Fine.” I sigh. “I’ll be up in about 20 minutes.” 

“20 minutes?! Are you cray?” 

“We’re not 16, Gordy.” 

“Around the twins we are! Now, you have ten minutes before I sick Mel onto your apartment. Hurry, she’s dying to give you a makeover.” With that, he kills the call. 

I think I’m going to kill him today. Yep, today’s the day. 

As the weird dream ends and I wake up to a blurry room, a rhythmic beeping can be heard in the background. Various whispers are heard, but I can’t really make out what anyone’s saying. 

“What… she… no… dammit!” One voice grumbles and warbles. 

“Good! Finally… point of….” Another voice blurrily cheers. 

“Stop rubbing… in!” Dean’s voice starts to sharpen as the world sharpens itself to my eyes. 

“I’ll rub it in if I want!” 

“Guys…” I croak. Now I realize that my throat is awfully raw. I look to my right and see a plastic tray with a paper cup, a thick plastic pitcher, and a clear container with ice inside. My hand reaches out for the pitcher. An unruly amount of pain spikes through my arm. “Ow.” 

“Do you really need to be such an ass today?!” 

“Guys…” I try again, still failing. I reach my left arm over, this time managing to grab the pitcher. So, I start pouring water into the cup before resetting the scene, each detail exactly as it was before. Well, almost every detail. 

“Yes! Our job is to help people!”

“No, our job is to kill…” Dean drops his voice. “Our job is to hunt and kill monsters. The fact that we help people is because they’re in danger. Miss prissy pants over there is, from what I can see, in no danger!” 

“She’s in a damn hospital!” 

“Dean…” I grab the cup and down it, reveling in the cool healing sensation that the water provides. 

“Will you stop it!? We don’t know why she’s even hurt.” 

“Shut up!” I more loudly say. They continue to not acknowledge me. 

“Exactly!” 

I grab the ice container with my left hand, I chuck it at them, and I scream, “Shut up you imbeciles!” 

Both their heads snap my direction, each face revealing a different emotion. Dean’s shows shock, while his counterpart’s expresses thinly veiled relief. Personally, I’m not getting a good vibe from either brother. 

“You’re awake?” Dean questions. 

“Obviously.” I roll my eyes at him. “Have been for a few minutes. Oh wait, neither of you would know since you’ve been bickering over some sibling nonsense!” 

“How’d you know we were siblings?” Sam questions, confused. 

“Uh…” Truth be told, I kinda just knew. Like, I didn’t but I guess I… did? “It’s… obvious?” 

“You don’t sound too sure about that.” 

“It doesn’t matter.” My hand waves the topic away. “What does is that… uh… uh….” 

“What matters is that you’re awake.” Sam interjects.

“Ah, yes.” The room goes silent, so I fold my hands across my lap. I twiddle my thumbs before the pain in my right arm returns. “Ow!” 

“You can’t really move your arm. Not without it hurting like hell.” 

“Why?” 

“You’re on an IV.” 

“What’s an IV?” The question smoothly leaves my mouth, but apparently not smoothly enough. Both Sam and Dean look dumbfounded that I said what I did. 

“You see that needle that’s stuck in your arm?” Dean gruffly asks. I look down at my right arm and indeed find a needle there. “Yeah, that needle is connected to that bag of antibiotics or whatever.” 

“Why’s it called an IV?” 

“It’s short for intravenous.” Sam quickly says. “The needle and tube are delivering necessary medicine directly into your bloodstream. Considering you had multiple cuts, gashes, really any wound, the doctors wanted to be sure that if you had any infections, that they’d be gone soon.” 

“Oh, thank you.” 

“No problem.” Silence falls upon the room for a few minutes before Sam says anything else. “Your eyes are fascinating.” 

“My… eyes?” 

“Yeah, yours.” 

“Why?” 

“They’re purple. It’s a gift that few people have.” As we make eye contact, I swear his eyes sparkle to match his sweet smile. Blush spreads across my cheeks at the nearly unnoticeable action. 

“It’s not a gift, Sam. It’s freaking eye color!” Dean exclaims. 

“Stop it, Dean.” I calmly tell him. 

“Oh shut up, you bitch.” 

“Get out.” 

“No!” 

“Leave, Dean. It’s obvious you don’t want to be here, so leave. Your brother will go with you when he’s ready.” 

“Fine.” As he walks out the door, he quickly says something to Sam. 

“Uh, sorry about my brother… he’s not very… nice to people.” He weakly chuckles, but I find it kind of cute. 

“It’s fine.” 

“Well, uh…” An awkwardness stings the atmosphere while he collects his thoughts. “So, what all do you remember?” 

“Uh, beside the pain I felt, nothing.” 

“Like, you don’t remember what happened a few days ago, or like you don’t have any memory of anything?” 

“Door number two.” I sigh. “Hell, I don’t even remember who I am. I’ve got no knowledge of anything, no way of learning such things, and I don’t understand even why I’m here.” Or what this place is, but that might scare him. 

“Wow. Not even your name?” 

“Nope. Everything’s a blank slate. Minus the most recent details, of course.” 

“How… why… what?” I don’t know why he’s so dumbfounded. He’s known me for maybe twenty minutes. 

“Question: Why do you care? Honestly, most people would drop me off here, tell the help all they know, then leave, never to be seen again. But you, you want to stay with me. Why?” 

“Let’s just say that, since my brother saved my life, I’ve wanted to do some good for others. Dying… I mean, nearly dying, it really changes your outlook on life, ya know?” I nod in response, not actually understanding. Suddenly, a blinding headache crashes into my skull. I cry out in pain, until I realize that an image or past event is flickering into life before my eyes. 

“Sammy!” Dean sighs in relief about twelve yards from his brother. An older man stands next to Dean as Sam is gripping his injured arm, staggering towards his brother. 

“Dean! Bobby!” He cries in joy. As Dean starts running to his little brother, another man in full Army uniform runs up behind Sam and jams a knife into his back. Once he pulls it back out, he runs away, taking the knife with him. 

Sam falls to the dying grass, blood slowly seeping from his wound into his shirt and jacket. Dean stops short, shock and sadness and anger hitting him all at once. 

“Sammy!” He cries before running over to his baby brother, dropping the shotgun he had hanging on a strap. Cradling his last dying family member, tears roll down his face, his hands coating with the fresh blood. “It’s gonna be okay, Sammy. Everything’s gonna be alright.” He whispers. 

More tears squeeze from his eyes as he realizes that he failed his promise to his father. He failed his promise to himself. He failed to keep Sam safe. Dean was his ‘last protector’, and he failed. 

“Don’t die on me, Sam. Don’t let me fail you. Don’t let go!” 

The headache falls away, taking the scene away from me. As I fade back into reality, I notice Sam holding my wrists, trying to get my attention, while five men and women in various uniforms come rushing in. They tell Sam to leave the room before they start checking me, I guess to make sure I’m okay. 

^^^^^^^^

“Alright, thanks doc.” Sam says to the doctor. Once their conversation’s over, the doctor leaves the room, thus leaving just Sam and I again. “So, what happened… uh…” 

“Uh what?” I softly question, feeling embarrassed that I know that he died. Although, if he died… wait, that’s why Dean’s dying in a year. He must’ve sold his soul! Wait, how do I know that? Ugh, this is confusing. 

“Well, none of us know your name. The doctors pulled some DNA but the results are gonna take a while.” 

“Why does it matter if I have a name or not? You’re just going to leave me here anyways.” A bit of sorrow touches my soul, knowing that I’ll have to be away from Sam. It’s just saddening that he’s going to lose his brother, meaning he’s going to be alone after all of it. Unless he has someone else to guide him, that is. 

“Who said I was leaving?” Confusion touches his puppy-like face, making him look cute. 

“But I thought that your brother…” 

“Oh, Dean? He’s just pissy. He sacrificed everything important to him to save me, so he’s trying to get everything on his bucket list done. I think I can rent a motel room here for a week or so and let him go do whatever he wants to. Who am I to hold him back from going to Vegas?” I giggle at this, knowing that Dean’s obviously the type of guy to go to Vegas just to get smashed and gamble. “Ah, you have such a cute giggle, Mystery Gal.” 

Blush overtakes my cheeks at his ever-so-slight flirting. Gosh, I feel like a teenage girl whose crush is talking to her, giving her nicknames and all. 

“I like the name Mystery Gal. Has a nice ring to it. Then again, nobody knows my actual name so anything goes. Right?” We both chuckle a bit before settling into a comfortable silence. 

 

Even though I’m in what’s called a hospital, surrounded by beeping machines, nurses, doctors, and screaming patients, I find solace in knowing that someone who very well saved my life is with me. I don’t know why I’m here, what’s happened, or what’s going to happen, but I strongly believe everything’s gonna be okay for a while and just knowing that is the best thing I could wish for right now.


	2. Hospitals and Hospitality

“Dean, stop your bitching!” I yell at my childish brother.

“I’m not bitching! I’m just trying to understand why you’re so willing to help this bitch!”

“She’s not a bitch! You’re just pissy because think that I can’t be away from you for half a second! Just because I’m your little brother doesn’t mean that I can’t hold my own for a week!”

“I know very well that you can hold your own, but if you die while I’m gone, my sacrifice would’ve been totally useless! I’m not losing you twice dammit!” As he yells out his painful truth, my anger falls, replaced with understanding but the motivation to convince him I’ll be fine joins it.

“While I understand your position on the matter,” I calmly begin. “I’d like to stay here a few more days, a week at most. I’ll make sure to stay out of harm’s way, I’ll be in as few places as possible, hell, I’ll call you every night if I have to.”

“Why do you want to stay here for another week? And don’t say it’s because you want to make sure that she’s okay, ‘cause that’s bull crap.” I go silent, which I guess Dean find suspicious, considering the next question he asks me. “You like this girl, don’t you?” Again, pure silence. A wide and evil grin spreads across my brother’s face. “Sammy likes a pretty girl!”

“Oh, shut up, Dean!”

“No! It’s my turn to torment you!” He laughs a bit. “Little Sammy has a crush on a lost girl! Sammy saved a girl and he likes her!” He sings.

“That’s it, I’m staying. Go have fun in Vegas. I’ll meet you at Bobby’s in a week.” I quickly say while I grab my pre-packed duffel bag, laptop, and jacket from off my bed.

“Whoa, whoa!” Dean runs to the door, thus blocking my only way out. “Who said you were staying?!”

“I did. Now move.” I try to push him out of the way, but he stays firmly planted where he is.

“No. You’re not staying.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Not unless you admit you like this… what did you call her?”

“Mystery Gal. Misty, for short.”

“Right. Not until you admit you like Misty.” He smirks at me, thinking he’s won. Well, joke’s on him, because I don’t care anymore.

“I, Sam Winchester, like Mystery Gal.” I give him a pointed look. “We done here?”

“Yeah… go on. I’ll meet you at Bobby’s in a week.” He grumbles as he moves away from the door.

“Thank you.”

“Shut up.”

~~~~~~

“So, you got the okay from Dean?”

“Yep. Said I could stay for another week.”

“Cool.” The room grows uncomfortably silent, so I twiddle my thumbs. Again, my right arm begins hurting from the stupid IV, so I stop.

“Oh, I forgot to mention that the doctors say you can go home in a day or two. Well, go wherever you need to.”

Surprise hits me. What doctor lets a patient go home so soon? Wait, are there more than a few doctors? And patients?

“Really? That soon?” I question.

“Yeah. I’m just as surprised as you.”

“You’d think they’d freaking keep me here for observation or something.” I grumble.

“It could be worse, Misty.” I note his pointed look before I smile slightly at his nickname for me. I think it’s very adorable that he calls me Misty. “Why’re you smiling?” He laugh-asks.

Because I like when you call me Misty. I think.

“Oh, you do now?” He smirks at me.

“Wait, did I say that out loud?” I blush deeply, completely embarrassed.

“Yeah. It’s fine though.” Another smile, but a sweet one. My heart flutters a bit, a feeling that seems foreign, yet comforting. “I like a girl who’s lost, needing help desperately. A girl that enjoys being around me, can accept my past, and put up with my brother. I may not know you well, but I know that you’re definitely special. I like special.”

The embarrassment floats away, replaced with a flooding feeling of happiness. Another feeling shows up, though. The feeling that… well, that he’s just putting up an act to either impress me or because he pities me. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like judging people just because I’m a skeptic. In fact, I wish I couldn’t judge a book by its cover, but since I can and do, it’s really saddening when people try to manipulate me.

Am I overthinking this? Absolutely. Can I really call on past experience to help me out? Not at all, ya know, since the memory loss and all. Should I actually be paying attention to whatever else Sam’s saying right now? Eh, probably.

“…gonna enjoy some cafeteria food. Okay?” He finishes saying.

“Oh, uh… what did you say?” I blush in embarrassment again.

“Oh, I was asking you if you wanted to go get some crappy cafeteria food with me. If the doc says you can, of course.”

“Sure, I’d love to.” Another smile crosses my face. Wow, smiling a lot today, aren’t ya, Misty?

“Alright, let me go ask the doctor then.”

^^^^^^^^^

“Really? You never got to know your mom?” I sadly ask while I eat my small steak with my left hand, trying to refrain from using my IV hand.

“No, she died when I was a baby.” He sighs deeply before stabbing his fork into a piece of lettuce from his salad. “I never even got a chance to know her, while Dean got four years to be around her. It’s… I’m jealous of him.” His sad tone is joined by a sad cloud in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Sam. It must be hard to only have one parent teach you everything.” I look down at my food, trying not to push too much.

“Actually, my dad taught me very little. Dean taught me most of what I know. Hell, the man practically raised me.” My head moves back up to see if he’s kidding or not and it’s obvious he’s not. Wow.

“Wait, that buffoon raised you?”

“Yeah. Dad wasn’t around much, being consistently busy with work and all.”

“Damn, man. That sucks.”

“Eh, I might not have enjoyed many parts of my childhood, but the parts I did were the best.” He smiles towards his plate. “There was this one Christmas that my uncle Bobby gave me this necklace for me to give to Dean. Well, not a necklace per se. More like a string with a little pendant that’s a mask with horns.”

“Wasn’t he wearing one earlier today?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. Anyways,” he makes full eye contact with me. “So, after I gave him the necklace, he gave me a box. Inside was… damn, it was either a pink and white baton or a Barbie or something. It was a girl’s toy!” We both laugh. “Turns out, he’d broken into a house a few blocks away from our motel room and taken a random present, rewrapped it, and gave it to me.”

“That’s funny.” I snicker.

“Yeah, it was.” A calm silence comes to us, while the dinner crowd continues around the room. We both eat our food, just not talking or looking at one another.

“Not to pry or anything but…” I look up at Sam right as he looks up at me. “How did your mother pass away?” I get no answer, and rightly so. I had no right to ask that. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—.”

“No, it’s fine.” He quickly says. He takes a deep breath. “Well, from what I know, she passed in a fire, in my nursery. I was just six months old. Damn, what I’d give to know my mom.” A few tears glisten in his beautifully sad eyes, but not a single one falls. Tears fall from my own eyes, the emotional pain of knowing someone without a mother hitting me with massive strength. Then comes another blinding headache, images of a blonde woman holding her infant son engulfing my vision.

_“Goodnight, Sam.” She softly says to her child, kissing him on the forehead lightly while placing him in the white painted wood crib. In the doorway stands a man with dark hair, brown eyes, a stubble coated jaw, and black pajamas. He walks up behind the woman, wraps his arms around her waist, and he holds her close to him._

_“How’s our little boy?”_

_“He’s growing so well, don’t you think John?”_

_“I do.”_

_Back at the doorway, a little boy with blonde hair and green eyes bounds into the room. Both adults turn to look at the boy._

_“Dean, it’s your bedtime.”_

_“Aw, mommy, can I stay up longer? I don’t wanna sleep!”_

_“Kiddo, you need to sleep.” John tells Dean._

_“Alright…” He sadly says. “Can I at least say goodnight to the baby?”_

_“Sure.” The woman tells him. Dean rushes over to the crib, the woman picks him up, and once able to see over the crib wall, Dean leans over and kisses his little brother._

_“Night, Sammy.”_

_“Alright, bedtime, Dean!” John exclaims while swooping down to pick up his eldest son. He hauls his son over his shoulder before leaving the room, leaving a laughing wife behind him._

_^^^^^^^^_

_A squealing Sam is heard through the baby monitor, rousing a tired Mary. She rolls over, telling John to get the baby. Once she gets no response, she gets up herself and sleepily walks to the baby’s room._

_At the doorway, she looks in and sees John tending to Sammy. “Does he need a bottle? Oh, ok.” She makes the walk to the stairs, fully prepared to make a bottle for the crying infant, but once halfway down the stairs, she notices the television flicker, and in front of it is a sleeping John._

_Fully awake and concerned, she yells, “Sammy,” runs up the stairs and into the baby’s room, where she sees the man she previously believed to be John picking up her son. “You?” She whispers. “Get away from my son!”_

_~~~~~~~_

_John awakens to the sound of his yelling wife and screeching infant. Scared, he runs up to the nursery, revealing only the crying Sam. He walks to him and leans over to calm him. Once calm, John prepares to kiss Sam’s forehead and bid him good night until he sees three drops of something red fall onto the infant’s head._

_John looks up, only to see his wife pinned to the ceiling, abdomen slashed and flames erupting from her body._

_“MARY!” He screams._

The world snaps back into my vision, the headache and memory gone just as fast. I see Sam, a random man, and a random woman standing over me. Somehow I ended up on the floor. Great. Just freaking great.

“Are you alright, Misty?” Sam quietly asks.

“Yeah, fine. I don’t know what the hell happened.” I rub my head, trying to figure out what’s actually going on with me.

“She’s fine, everyone. She’s okay.” Sam announces to the people crowded around me and the entire cafeteria. “Here, let me help you up.” He offers his hand to me, which I gratefully take.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” He wraps an arm around my shoulders, which catches me off guard. I settle into it quickly and soon find myself leaning my head against his shoulder. “So, are you feeling alright?”

“Haven’t you already asked me that?”

“Yeah, but I just want to double check.”

I snicker at his comment. A few moments pass before I grab my medicine stand thingy and we start walking back to my room.


	3. The Dysfunctional Diner

“So, how’s it feel to be out of the hospital?” Sam asks me as he sets up the other side of the motel room for me.

“Can’t complain, but I am concerned that they released me after only three conscious days. It’s weird.”

“Eh,” he chucks his empty duffle bag on to my bed. “I’ve seen weirder. Much, MUCH weirder.” He chuckles lightly. I just stand in the corner of the cheap room, thinking about the weird headache things I’ve had the last few days.

For instance, the day that I had two in one day had another three! The third was about a ‘hunt’ that the guys went on. The fourth was about something that I guess drove Sam back into said ‘hunting’. And the fifth had to deal with, like a Djinn or something. I dunno, it was all weird though.

Then yesterday, I had three more, each one having to do with events that happened no more than two years ago. And today, well… let’s just say that if I DO have a crush on Sam, (which I’m almost certain that I do) these events were heart shattering.

This all sucks so much for me. Why? Because not only did I happened to get saved by Sam, start to want to be closer to him than any other girl in the entire world, and dream about what it’d be like to be a ‘hunter’, I also happen to be staying with him until I can figure out where I came from.

“Misty?” Sam says, interrupting my thoughts.

“Hmm?” I absent-mindedly say while I turn my head to look at him.

“I asked you if you were hungry.”

“Oh, sorry. I got lost in thought.” I giggle a bit when he smiles at me. “I totally am.”

“Alright, what would you like then?”

“Options?”

“Convenience store, fast food, or supermarket.”

“Gross. Uh, fast food, then.”

“Ya sure? I could just go to-.” He starts but I interrupt him.

“No, it’s fine. Really.” I smile at him, hoping that he understands what I’m trying to say.

“Mkay.” As he finishes up whatever he had been doing, he grabs his coat. He then starts walking to the door, but stops just a foot from it.

“What’s wrong?”

He slowly turns around and looks at me. He does a full body examination before rushing over to his full duffle bag and rifling through it. Only a few seconds pass before he looks over his shoulder to me.

“Hey, you like plaid? Or would you rather have a…” He rifles some more. “Flat black?”

“In what context?”

“Not gonna tell you.”

“Ugh, fine. Plaid, I guess.”

“Alright.” He then grabs something from his bag, turns around, then throws it at me. I catch it (barely) and try to examine it.

“No time. Just go into the bathroom and change.” He guides me to the cramped room before shutting the door. Finally having the chance to see what he gave me, I find that he gave me one of his (or what I assume to be one of his) flannel shirts.

“Uh, why’d you give me a shirt?” I shout.

“Look at what you’re wearing now.” Okay… I look down and see the clothing I’m in. A simple grey t-shirt, blue cotton shorts, appropriate undergarments, and black flats.

“What does your shirt have to do with my clothing?”

“It’s what you were wearing the night I found you.”

“So?”

“I’d like you to be in warm, clean clothing.”

“Oh, thank you, then.”

After our brief [heheheheh] conversation, I decide to just say, ‘To hell with it!’ and I pull off my shirt before putting on his shirt. Once on, it looks more like an oversized dress rather than a shirt. Although, it is really comfortable. Actually, it’s the most comfortable thing I’ve worn yet!

Once done admiring myself in the shirt, I look up, only to see a reflection of someone familiar, yet foreign. A woman stares back at me, yet I don’t feel like she’s… me. Well, wouldn’t that happen to all amnesia patients?

I examine the reflection, taking note of each detail. Her blonde hair that’s wavy, yet straight. Round, full cheeks. Fair lips. And, exactly as Sam had said, purple eyes.

A curious specimen I am. Quite the specimen I am. Whoa, wait. Is that… it can’t be. I get closer to the mirror, looking over every feature, memorizing every detail. And with that, I know where I’ve seen this girl before. Well, where I’ve seen myself before.

It’s the girl, Caitlyn, from my dream. I’m almost positive it’s her. But… how could that be? How could I be me AND her?!

“Hey, Misty, are you okay? You’ve been in there for nearly twenty minutes.”

“Oh, uh, I’m fine. Just… sprucing up a bit.” I look myself in the deep purple eye and I walk out the door.

“Alright…” Sam stops mid-sentence when he gets a look at me in his shirt. “Whoa…”

“Does it look bad?” I feel embarrassment creep into my cheeks. I pull my arm up and point to the bathroom, ready to just waltz back in, but once I turn halfway around, he lightly grasps my wrist.

“No… no. You look… wow.”

“I don’t get it.”

“What?”

“Why’re you amazed at how I look… in a shirt?” Our eyes lock for a few moments. During this time, I find breathing to be a slight struggle, each breath feeling ragged and wet.

“Um…” He quickly releases my arm before composing himself. “It’s just… you look… you look good.”

“Thanks?”

“It was a compliment.”

“Oh, okay!” I smile at him.

“Alright, let’s go eat, hmm?”

^^^^^^^^

“Tonight will be the night I will fall for you.” The lyrics sing out in the small diner. Sam and I just sit in a curved red vinyl booth, waiting for the waitress to help us. I look over the menu, realizing just how hungry I really am.

My stomach gurgles, alerting Sam of my gnawing hunger. He just chuckles and continues scanning his menu. I decide on a bacon cheeseburger, fries, and a glass of iced tea before folding the laminated paper back up. After setting it down on the table, I listen to the soft music, paying close attention to every word.

“My hands are searching for you, my arms are outstretched towards you, I feel you on my fingertips, my tongue dances behind my lips for you. This fire rising through my being burning I'm not used to seeing you.” The woman belts out. A powerful, yet light song.

My eyes instinctively shut, thus allowing myself to fully embrace the song, breathe in every word. Every beat and note flow through my being, stirring up emotions that soothe any bad thoughts I may have had. Before I know it, my head rests on Sam’s shoulder and my arms wrap around his well-built body.

“Sorry for the wait, apparently my boss thinks a tag team of three people can run an entire restaurant.” A frazzled but still calm voice rushes. “So, what’ll you two have?”

I open my eyes to see a young girl, maybe 19, standing before us, a pad and paper in hand. Her black curly hair falls just below her shoulders, her tired smile emphasizes her more aged features (her crow’s feet and laugh lines in particular), and her eyes, one blue, one grey, make her seem more lively. An interesting girl she is. I just smile at her, before a slight headache creeps in, bringing a memory of her past with it.

_“Have you seen this woman?” A man in a jet black suit questions the young girl._

_“Oh, Angelica?” She looks closely at the picture, being sure to not her eldest sister’s bright blue eyes and matching black hair. “Not in the last few days. The last time I had, she and her boyfriend, Tripp something-or-other, were heading to his parent’s house. Why? Is she alright?”_

_“No, I’m afraid. She’s…” He sighs deeply. I recall his voice. It’s Dean. “I’m sorry, but your sister was found at the bottom of the lake.”_

_Angelica’s sister clamps her hand on her mouth, trying not to burst into tears. Her other arm holds her waist, as if it would keep her from breaking apart. Her chest rumbles from her choking sobs as her tears slip down her face._

_“No… it’s not… no. No!” She cries out._

_“I’m sorry for your loss.” Dean consoles her. Her head leans onto his shoulder as he wraps his arms around her._

The scene slips away, but the emotions latch onto my heart. My own tears threaten to fall but I hold them back, which stings my eyes.

“Misty, are you okay?” Sam quietly questions me. I look up at his face before returning to the waitress.

“Uh, yeah.” I sniff. “Just… allergies.”

“Oh, okay then.” He looks back to the girl. “Um, I’ll have a salad and a Coke.” The girl furiously scribbles down his order. She then turns to me.

“What’ll you have?”

“I’ll take a bacon cheeseburger, fries, and an iced tea, please.” She jots down my order.

“Alright, I’ll have your drinks out in a second.” She collects the menus before running off to the kitchen.

Sam wraps his left arm around me as I wrap mine closer around him. Somehow, I’m learning about not only his past, but other’s as well. I don’t know why I am, though. In any case, this moment of witnessing a young woman’s turmoil compels me to keep Sam closer.

“Misty, are you sure you’re alright? ‘Cause you seem… I dunno, different.”

I nestle my head under his arm, enjoying his comfort while still suppressing my tears. “I’m… I don’t even know.”

“Can I help?”

“I don’t think so.” My eyes shut. I exhale deeply. “You know those headaches I was having, right?”

“Yeah, what about them?”

“Well,” I sit up, take his hands, and I look him dead in the eye. “I don’t think you’ll believe me, but…” I take one last deep breath. “During each one, I’d see these… moments, of you or Dean or the past and, well… I just had one about that girl.”

“Like, a premonition?” He softly but sternly asks.

“Exactly.”

“Uh… I need to use the restroom. Excuse me.” He unwraps us before heading to the bathroom. Oh god, what have I done?

“What did you just say?” Dean questions from his end.

“You heard me and you know it.” I hiss into my cell.

“Just because I heard you doesn’t mean I believe it! How in the world could Misty be like you?!”

“I don’t know, but it’s probably a good thing we found her.”

“How does finding a psychic turn into a good thing?”

I stare into the bathroom mirror, examining my own reflection. I use my left hand to smooth out my hair before I continue talking to my brother.

“It means that not all of us were killed by Yellow Eyes!”

“Correction: by that crazy chick, Ava whatever.”

“She was under Azazel’s influence.”

“Who cares? She killed pretty much everyone else. Well, except for Jake.”

“In any case, I found Misty, someone just like me!”

“Sammy, don’t get your hopes up here. For all we know, she could be a demon who’s faking it.”

“She’s not a demon dammit!” I snap.

“Don’t you dare snap at me.” He growls, exactly as dad had. “I’m trying to keep you safe while I can.”

“Stop treating me like I’m your son, Dean! I’m your little brother!”

“Exactly! You’re all I got left! I’m gonna die soon! So I’m responsible until then!” Both ends fall into empty silence, with the exception of the distant club music on Dean’s end.

“Fine. I’ll see you on Thursday. Bye.”

“Whatever.” I end the call before I splash cold water on my face to calm myself down.

“Here are your drinks.” The waitress politely says while placing our full cups into the table. “Your food will be out in a few minutes.”

“Thank you.” I smile at her before she walks away from the table, back into her world of feeding and cleaning up after other people. I just stare at my condensation coated glass, wondering why I said what I had to Sam. Maybe he thinks I’m a creep or some weirdo girl who’s got nothing better to do with her life.

I sigh deeply, wondering why my life is this way. Is it fate who’s decided to throw me into Sam’s world? Or is it some punishment I must endure because of my previous and unknown actions? Could it be that this all isn’t happening in real life? Is my life just some unwritten story waiting to be told through the eyes of a child?

While these thoughts and questions rush through my head as an endless blur, I pick up my iced tea and take a long sip from it. The cool drink soothes the growing ache in my stomach.

“Misty, why are you crying?” Sam whispers to me. I look over to my right, noticing him sitting where he once was earlier. His hand moves up to my cheek before brushing a stray tear away.

“I have no idea.” I sob slightly, which I guess influences Sam to wrap his arms around me, thus pulling me close. I lightly grip his shirt as I let some tears fall. Why the hell am I crying? I’m a big girl! I shouldn’t let the small things get to me! Yet, I do… what’s wrong with me?

“It’ll be okay, Misty. I’m here for you.” He places one hand on my head and gently strokes my hair, emphasizing my comfort. I officially can say that I feel genuinely safe with Sam.


	4. Good Golly, Mr. Crowley

“Are you sure you want to go back to the room? We don’t have to.” Sam questions me. 

“I… I’d just like to go back for now. Sleep may do me some good.” I sigh, trying not to reveal my true reason for wanting to go back ‘home.’ 

“Alright, let’s go.” He holds my hand as we walk the four block jaunt back to his motel room. Feeling sheepish about holding his hand, I just lightly hold on, trying to keep this old heart of mine calm. 

The walk falls into silence only twenty feet from the diner. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a comfortable silence. A nice, soothing, romantic silence… wait, scratch the romance. Anyways, I like it, I just… I dunno. I think I just want to be alone right now. 

“So, did you enjoy your food?” Sam asks, breaking my train of thought. 

“Yeah, I did. Thanks for it, by the way.” 

“No thanks needed. When I see someone who needs help, I just kinda do it.” He chuckles. “Man, I’ve said that too many times to count.” 

“Really? How so?” I quizzically question. 

“Well, what my brother and I do involves helping many people. We…” 

“You what, Sam?” I lay my head on his shoulder as we keep walking. 

“It’s… a long story.” 

“I’ve got time. Hit me.” 

“Ok then.” He takes a deep breath before continuing on. “I don’t know if you know what hunting is, but that’s what we do.” 

“Hunting… like hunting monsters and stuff?” 

“Uh, that’s exactly it. How do you know about hunting?” 

“Um, well…” 

“Misty,” He stops walking, thus stopping me too. “How do you know about hunting? I know that you couldn’t possibly remember anything about hunting.” 

“Ugh, I know about hunting because… because of my premonitions. Those headaches I got were premonitions.” 

The air grows stale, bringing in a cold silence. God, why did I open my mouth?

^^^^^^^^^

_“Hello, darling.” Crowley whispers into my ear, causing a shudder to roll down my spine._

_“What do you want, Crowley?” I weakly hiss, feeling my resistance crumble to mere dust._

_“Did my favorite angel forget about her obligation to me?” He walks around me, his face never leaving a six inch proximity around mine._

_“How could I? Ever since I found out I was of heavenly origin, you’ve never let me forget.”_

_“Why so bitter? Don’t you ENJOY being my personal assistant?”_

_“So much.” I sarcastically droll. “Because it’s every girl’s dream to be the King of Hell’s right hand gal.”_

_“Isn’t it?” He stops his pacing right in front of me, steps back two times, then he smirks at me. “I know that, especially for you, girls would KILL to even look at me. In fact, you have. Many a time, actually.”_

_I start to shake a bit, knowing full well that he’s right… I so desperately wish it weren’t true. I try to hide it so often that I actually start believing in the lie._

_“So? That doesn’t mean a fucking thing!” I weakly laugh, trying to mask my nervousness._

_“You know it means everything, my dear Caitlyn. You see,” He gets closer to me again. “You’ve done everything just to be near me. You even think about what it’d be like if you were the Queen of Hell, ruling right beside me. You’ve gone so far as even wondering what it’d be like bedding me.”_

_“Stop it… y-you know that’s not true…” Wavering voice, shivering body, heating blood… all this and more consume my body as his face grows nearer to mine._

_“If it’s not true, then why is your heart beating more than a hummingbird’s wings flap in a minute? Hmm?” He looks down the three inches of height needed to look at my face while placing a hand on my chest. “You know if you just let go, you would give yourself to me, no if’s, and’s, or but’s._

_“Still, though, you grasp the idea that, since you’re an angel, you cannot even consider being with a demon, let alone the King of Hell.” His left hand grips my hip, his right slips around my waist, thus pulling me closer to him. “But what if you did? What would you do then?”_

_“I’d… I’d…” My bottom lip quivers. “Um….” Before I know it, that sly ass smile of his is pressed against my lips, sending electric shocks throughout my system._

_He slowly pulls away from me, but I still feel that weird electricity in the air surrounding us. More pressure from his right arm is forced against my waist, squeezing me closer to him. Confused and alarmed at his suddenness, I don’t realize that we’re kissing again until the motion of his hands moving down to my butt snaps me back._

_Normally, I’d try to yank myself away from him but… I dunno. There’s just something… different, about this time. I just can’t put my finger on what, though._

_His lips dance with mine as his savvy Scottish hands massage my buttocks. My own hands reach out to grip his shoulders, fully prepared to shove him away, yet they only try to pull the King of Hell closer to me. What’s wrong with me?!_

_I’m a friggin’ angel and I’m making out with Crowley! Worse yet, my eyes are closed and I’m enjoying it! WTF?!_

_Crowley’s hands firmly grip my bottom, a gesture that has me jumping up and wrapping my legs around his waist. Instead of dropping me, he grips my hips even harder and then he teleports us to an unknown location. Unbeknownst to me, it’s a bedroom. This I get from when my back slams against a mattress._

_Moans float from my mouth while he continues to move his hands around my body. My arms decide to envelope themselves around his neck as we both battle for dominance. He, being the King of Hell and all, wins the battle long before I even decide to fight._

_“Misty…” He mutters through our kissing._

_“Hmm?”_

_“Love… you need to wake up.” He whispers to me. “Wake up. Wake up. Dammit! I said, WAKE UP!!!”_

My eyes flip open, my body jerks, and my heart beats erratically. My eyes dart around the room, finding only blurring images smearing with liquid-like ones. 

“Whoa! Are you okay?” Sam quickly questions, worry fused into his eyes. Everything calms down, allowing vision to return. In his hands is some weird little box but something tells me that I’m not allowed to know what’s within the box. 

“Um… nearest toilet?” My voice comes out strangled and raw, the sudden urge to vomit overwhelming my newly awakened system. 

After simply pointing me in the right direction, I run to the horrid smelling bathroom and I empty all previous content from my now empty stomach. Once finished, my throat burns like the fire of a thousand suns, which causes me to squeeze every last tear from my eyes. 

Sobs, heaves, and moans exit from my lungs… pain twists my barren stomach into tangled knots… endless wondering burdens my confused brain. My arms hug the porcelain bowl like it’s the only thing keeping me alive. For all I know, it could be. 

“Misty!” Sam exclaims while rushing to my side. “Misty, are you okay? Do I need to take you back to the hospital?” 

“No… no.” 

“You sure? It’s no trouble.” 

“I’m…” I lift my head so I can plausibly look at him. Thankfully, his soft eyes and puppy dog face distract me from my recent grief. Those soft, loving, caring eyes…. “I’ll be okay. Just a little frazzled.” A weak smile parts from my lips, yet I know that he’s not actually buying it. 

“Misty, what’s really going on?” 

“Sammy… alright. I’ll tell you.” Deep breath in, deep breath out. It can’t be that hard to tell him about a silly old dream, right? “Uh, I had this dream about this guy named Crowley. ‘I’ was an angel, of all things, and I guess that I fell in love with Crowley, King of Hell. 

“While he did have a sexy British accent, it was frightening to even think about kissing someone who’s the King of Hell! Let alone a simple demon! God, I’d much rather kill him! Or any demon!” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Hang on there, Misty!” Sam exclaims. I pay close attention to his words while he speaks. “First off, please refrain from calling me Sammy. Second, what the hell do you mean by ‘King of Hell’?!” 

“I don’t know! That’s the thing! I barely grasp the concept of hunting but yet I dream about kings of hell and such!” 

“Man, no offence or anything, but you’re kinda screwed up.” 

“Ah, I know.” I sigh. After a few seconds of silence, my stomach decides to sound like a dying whale. “Well then, I believe I’m a tad hungry.” 

We both break out in wild laughter, enough that the woman in the room next to us threatens to call the manager over. So, we keep laughing in protest. Eventually she just gives up and leaves the motel.  We quickly high five before heading to the nearest diner for grubbage. 

^^^^^^^^

“Wow, hungry much?” Sam questions, dumbfounded by the mass amount of food I just ordered. 

“Hey, you try waking up from a nightmare with a full stomach.” 

He chuckles while shaking his head at me. I laugh a bit myself because, let’s be honest, it is kinda funny. 

“I’ve done it, so I understand.” He pauses while looking at the sign that reads ‘REST ROOMS THIS WAY’ in big letters. “So, about that dream. Do you think it’s a premonition, a memory of someone else, just a dream… what?” 

“To be honest…” My eyes close, yet I don’t know why. “I have no idea, Sam. For all I know, it could be a warning to the people.” 

“What people?” 

“The good and the evil. The soldier, the civilian, the martyr, the victim… this conflict between Heaven and Hell… this is a war! Whoever calls it a mere bitch fight is clearly wrong!” 

“Whoa, war? There is no war. There aren’t even angels!” 

“Oh, well then… it’s just a dream. And my previous statement sounds like song lyrics.” 

“Ya know, it kinda does.” 

The nearly empty diner falls into silence, with the exception of the staff doing their usual morning duties. Somehow, I feel like I’d usually try to fill the silence but right now, I don’t really want to do anything other than look at Sam. 

Wow, that sounds a lot creepier in my head than I had intended. Let me rephrase that, I enjoy the ‘easy on the eye’ feature that Sam possesses. Okay, that’s not any better. Hmm, is there a way to rephrase the sentence so that it doesn’t seem weird? 

As this string of thoughts runs through my head, I start to notice that Sam’s lips are moving. Ack, crap! He’s talking and I’m going off into La La Land. I start to pay attention right as he finishes his thought. 

“What’s your take on the matter?” He asks me. 

“Hmm?” I mutter. 

“I asked you what your take on the whole ‘Dean being pissy’ matter is.” 

“Oh, well if he wants to be pissy about you wanting to help me, then maybe you should return to him and just let me figure out my life, on my own.” Wow, almost instantly, many bitter thoughts fill my head and a bitter taste fills my mouth. 

“Really?” He sounds heartbroken. “Why do you think that?” 

“I…” My eyes don’t ever leave that puppy dog face of his, which distracts me from what I’m trying to say. “Um… well…” 

What I really want to say is this: I think that Dean can go screw himself. If he doesn’t like that Sam found me and wants to help me, then he can take his finely toned ass somewhere where someone gives a damn. And ya know what? I think that he’s jealous of his little brother. Why? Why, because Dean thinks that he can always get the girl, no matter who it is. I mean, just look at his track record! He’s slept with more women than a Babylonian whore had with anyone! 

Speaking of his horn dog ways, Dean doesn’t really talk to any of them women he screws. In fact, he lies to them, often gets them to fall in love with him, fucks them, and then sees pretty much none of them ever again! 

Sam on the other hand has had at most ten partners, and had a serious girlfriend for almost three years. Sadly, she passed away the same way their mother had. Back to the point though, Dean: liar, cheater, douchebag king. Sam: kind, smart, quick witted, all around great guy. Who’s the winner here? Ding, ding, ding, ding! Sam! Not Dean, Sam! 

God, the next time I see Dean, I swear I’ll… whoa. Wait, first off, how do I know anything about their pasts? I know very little (or at least I thought I did) about either of them. Second, am I acting jealous myself? Am I just as bad as Dean here? And, when/where did all of this come from?

“Brotherhood is more important to any family than any girl is.” I lie. “I believe that you should just leave me be so that you can have a ‘blood is thicker than water’ family. Intruding like this is… well, it’s almost criminal in some societies.” 

“So, you think that Dean’s right because family trumps girls?” Ah confusion, how you torment us all. 

“Yes?” I nervously laugh, carefully eyeing the waitress in my peripheral. “No… ugh, I don’t know. I’m just amnesia girl at this point.” 

“Hey,” Sam softly says. He brings his life worn hands to my chin, lifts my head so our eyes meet yet again, and he quietly says, “You’re nowhere near just being amnesia girl. Don’t ever think of yourself that way.” He smiles. “Who knows? Maybe you’re my Guardian Angel in disguise. Or the girl who’ll defy all odds with me.” 

I smile back, my heart knowing something like this is true. In fact, it feels like that’s exactly what’s gonna happen. Hmm, weird. 

We stare into each other’s eyes, letting the other person be our entertainment. Suddenly, I feel some kinda force telling me to kiss him…. Following it, I lean in, noticing him doing the same. We get closer… closer… closer… and then we….

**Dun dun dun! Ha! Now you must read the next chapter! Muahahahahahahaha!**

 


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